


Changes in Lattitudes, Changes in Attitudes

by MidKnight2501



Series: Fall Behind Left Behind [8]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:46:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidKnight2501/pseuds/MidKnight2501
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Still the lover boy, I see.” Raoul jokes and James feel the back of his neck heat up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changes in Lattitudes, Changes in Attitudes

James wakes up on the beach in Ibiza. He's still got his trousers on from last night- though from the feel his pants have been misplaced in the sand- and when he sits up there's no sign of his shirt. He's pretty sure he went to the club with a shirt on but who knows. It's not like they stopped him last week when he went without one, but it might have also been Severine's dress that got them in no questions asked. 

He rests his elbows on his knees and watches the waves and the colors of the dawn lighting up the sky and tries to remember who led him out onto the sand last night. Some girl. Maybe blond. 

It doesn't really matter and she's long gone anyway. James gets up and looks up and down the beach. There are people swimming. There are children swimming. There's a few other people waking up like he is, or still asleep and going to wake up in six hours with amazing sunburns. He doesn't see the house, but he sees a nightclub awning he remembers and starts walking up the beach in it's direction. 

It's not long to the house after that. He pushes open the back gate to the pool and stares up at the house in amused horror. It's more house than he's ever seen in his life, and that includes his childhood. There's a pool and a jacuzzi- there are actually jacuzzi in all the upstairs bedrooms- three floors, a huge porch on the second floor with a bar. These days he hardly sees the sweater men because the house is so big, though sometimes he plays billiards with them downstairs. They're alright, mostly.

Severine is already lounging on a float in the pool in a barely there gold bikini. She tips up her sunglasses to give him the eye as he slinks past. 

“You're going to get sand fleas...” She teases him and he gives her the two finger salute in return. “And other things!”

“You left me at the bar!” He shoots back and goes inside. He wants a shower more than anything else, even Raoul's coffee. 

The other man looks him up and down from his place at the breakfast nook, surrounded by newspapers- in eight languages, from what he can tell with a glance, upside down- and blows him a kiss. 

“Still the lover boy, I see.” Raoul jokes and James feel the back of his neck heat up.   
~~

James takes a shower then stands forever in front of the huge window that faces out onto the ocean in his room and just stares at the view for a while. Finally he dries his hair off with a towel and then goes to check his gun, counting the rounds carefully before putting it back in the top dresser drawer. Raoul had put it back in his hand as soon as they landed.

He hasn't fired it, yet, but he will. When he needs to. MI-6 is still on their trail and so are the Macao Syndicate that wants Severine.... for something. It's hard to think they just want her back at her job. It's a lot of work, tracing them to Berlin, and James keeps an eye out for them here in Spain. Something is coming, he's sure of it.  
~~

He likes the food in Ibiza. The seafood is outstanding and he's slowly picking up the language again. Severine and Raoul take him out to dinner most nights, or Raoul cooks with his sleeves rolled up in the chef quality kitchen, with an apron on, pouring wine into skillets and setting things on fire. He likes the wine and the imported beer- sometimes there's even beer from home and he buys it at horrible prices just to see how it tastes here in the sunshine, in a different life. It's bitter and dark. He buys it anyway.   
~~

Raoul gives him spending money and he spends it on Severine. Buys her dozens of crochet bead bracelets, like they're tourists. He buys her flip flops with tiny straps and white t shirts for wet t shirt night at the nightclub and metallic bikinis that she won't actually wear on the beach. One time he even lets her talk him into getting a henna tattoo- but Raoul laughs at it later, when they're doing tequila shots and licks over the design like he can taste how it's stained his skin.   
~~

When she has bad dreams about her time in the sex trade she comes to James in the middle of the night, tapping at the door three times with her too long nails so he knows not to shoot her, and she gets in bed with him, sniffling and trying to be silent at the same time. He holds her until she's stopped shaking, pets his hands over her back, over all those frail bones and that soft skin, and wishes he could go back in time and save her from all of that. He grew up an orphan- he can't imagine what it was to leave her family, or be sold away from it- and then... all that. 

She cries herself out eventually, sleeps sometimes. He wakes up wrapped around her most mornings, like he's trying to shield her from a bomb. Severine never says anything about it. 

Some mornings he wakes up already hard and inside her and she's on top of him holding him down and her smile isn't a smile so much as a snarl and it's clear who's taking who to James, even if he's the one inside her. Severine fucks herself on him, hard, doesn't care if he finishes or not. 

He doesn't mind tossing off after, not with the way she watches him do it.  
~~

He wakes up on the beach, only it's night this time. The girl already left, giggling all the way back to her friends. James doesn't feel satisfied though. He wants something. He can feel it thrumming under his skin. 

He gets up, dresses again, wishes there wasn't sand everywhere, and walks home. It's less of a distance this time and he slips into the house as silent as a shadow. Some of the sweater men are still up, doing something on the computers Raoul has filled the downstairs sitting room with. He goes up to his room and gets the gun. He doesn't really want to fire it but he wants... Something. James paces a while. He stares out the window and presses his hand to it. It's chilled from the night air and James wants something hot. He wonders if Severine is still up but other than when she wants it he's never asked for sex from her and he doesn't think... She'd like that. 

James finds himself in the hall outside her room anyway, gun in hand, and then stares at the door. He can't make himself knock but then Raoul's room is only one door down. 

James doesn't bother to knock and for a moment, in the darkness, he wonders what the hell he's doing. At least Severine isn't in bed with Raoul. There's just one body in the bed, slowly leaning up and reaching for the light switch.

“Don't.” James says and hears the gun cock. It's still pointed at the floor, which is stupid. He's not going to shoot anyone like that. 

“James, darling?” Raoul asks but he doesn't sound that worried. He does have bullets this time, he checked. He pushes the door shut and locks it. The tension in the room is spiraling up and it's all he can do not to shiver from it. It feels like before a lightning strike, before a summer storm. 

“Sheet off.” James says and walks to the bed, tapping the gun against his thigh. He's not thinking, but he is. Raoul throws off the sheet and he has silk pajama bottoms on that match his Prada shirt... From the island. “Those too.” James snarls. The pants get flung on the far side of the bed, where James can't see them.

In the dark he can't see Raoul's expression but the other man does as he says. He's laying on the bed naked and James keeps tapping the gun against his leg. 

“Turn over.” James finally decides and Raoul makes a deep sighing noise, like James is being dull about something like the nuances of wine. But he gets on his hands and knees in the middle of the bed and hangs his head, like he's being scolded for something. He's not bad looking in he low light coming in from the windows. James kicks off his trousers, then walks to the bedside table. There's lotion inside and a handgun and condoms and an incendiary grenade. “You really need this?” He asks, poking at the grenade canister.

“Well, there is a man with a gun in my bedroom.” Raoul says. 

“At least you're not tied to a chair.” James tells him and gets on the bed, uses his knees to spread Raoul's legs. He traces down Raoul's spine with the gun, over the scars. Raoul shivers. 

“I could be.” Raoul offers and James almost laughs. 

“Never been a fan of chairs, myself.” James says with half a shudder. He squirts the lotion on Raoul's back, watches him hiss and shiver at the cold-

“James, goddamn it-” Raoul bitches and James slaps him with an open hand. He wishes the lights were on so he could see what color the welt turns. He jabs him in the kidney with the gun in the other hand and smears his hand around in the lotion, warming it. He slides that hand down between Raoul's legs, rolls his bollocks a second, then circles his thumb over the hole, watching Raoul shiver. 

“You like it?” James asked, turning the gun a little so Raoul has to know it's there. 

“Caught between a rock and a hard place.” Raoul quips and James slaps him again. “Or I will be soon, eh, James?” James slaps him again, gets more lube, and shoves a finger in- watches Raoul's spine go straight as a broomstick, listens to him curse under his breath. He turns and presses down, hears him curse in a different way. It's wonderful watching him come apart. Right now James has all the power. He misses that. 

He works Raoul open slowly, one finger, then two, then three. Sweat breaks out over Raoul's back. It dots his shoulders. One of his hands is white knuckled around the headboard. The other keeps sneaking down between his legs, wanking slowly. 

James leans closer, slips his fingers out, and slips his cock in. Raoul groans, rocking back against him. He runs the gun barrel over Raoul's shoulders, against the base of his skull, presses it behind an ear too hard. Raoul shivers. James leans over the larger man, presses them so close they might as well be one. He bites at his shoulder a little too hard and Raoul moans his name like it means something different that it does. 

James fucks him like he's trying to take him apart piece by piece. So hard that the headboard has to be ruining the paint, so that the guards have to be wondering if they should come in. They scratch and bite at each other. He presses the gun everywhere he can, still cocked, still ready to go off, and at one point Raoul licks the barrel into his mouth and sucks on it. Their bodies slap together, they kick the sheets and pillows off the bed- James pulls out and forces Raoul over, sees his bitten lip, and hikes his hips into his lap, fucks back in and Raoul has to brace his hands up against the headboard another way, as James drills into him, watches him come with a shout, and keep going. He presses the gun to Raoul's temple, to his throat, in his mouth, to his heart. 

Raoul reaches up and cups James' face and says, “It's OK, I've got you.” and James comes like a freight train, rocking up hard and groaning like he's been shot in the gut. 

It leaves him wrung out, gasping for breath, their skin stuck together by sweat, barely touching on the bed. Raoul takes the gun, puts the safety on and drops it off the side of the bed.  
~~

James wakes up in the morning to Raoul complaining about the sand in the bed sheets, but not the scratches or bite marks that cover his back and throat. James leaves for his own bed just so he doesn't have to hear about it anymore.  
~~

He finds the bomb in the kitchen three days later, when they've come back from the market. It's standard issue MI-6 and if James hadn't been getting out the blender they'd never have seen it in time. 

They leave.  
~~

James wakes up on a beach in Tahiti.  
~~

James wakes up on a beach in Rio.  
~~

James wakes up on a beach in Melbourne.  
~~

James wakes up on a beach in Los Angeles and buys pot from a threeway couple on the beach. One of the men has deadly eyes, ones that James meets with the same kind of eyes, and the girl has tattoos, and the other looks like a fool in love. 

It's amazing pot. Nothing like he's ever had before. Severine likes the stuff and Raoul says he's got to stay sharp so he'd rather not indulge but later when the smoke is making them crazy he and Severine kidnap Raoul to bed and it's an all night fuck fest.  
~~

James wakes up on a beach in Wales and wonders what the fuck he was thinking from he cold.  
~~

James wakes up in Columbia and wonders how many more bombs they're going to find. It's been six months- eight months- maybe even a year and every place they start to make a nest there's a bomb. Give it a month and they'll have to move again and he's tired of it for once in his life. He likes taking care of Severine, likes doing little missions for Raoul. He doesn't mind travel but... he wants a home base.

He tells Raoul that over breakfast and the other man looks a little sad. 

“Once you have a home someone can come along and take it. It's better to be able to run.” Raoul tells him and touches his shoulder. 

“Severine can't have a wardrobe if we keep having to leave everything behind.” James argues back. 

“There's always more money.” Raoul says. 

“That's not the point.” James itches to kill someone, like whoever plants the bombs. “I want to do something about it.”

“You're so sweet.” Raoul tells him and goes off to hack some third world country for millions of euros. When James watches the news later he wonders which country in turmoil it was.  
~~

They find the bomb a week later and James sees red when one of the sweaters points it out. 

He is so fucking tired of this. 

M told the world he was dead. She got him shot. She can't have him anymore. He's not coming home and her ruining his life again and again and again is just like some jealous ex-lover shit. He's done with it.  
~~

James wakes up on a beach in Naples and knows what he has to do.   
~~

He takes one of the sweater men aside and tells him to let it slip to Macao where they are. And then a day later he tells another one to let it slip to MI-6. Just a little hint, nothing obvious, just enough that they think James and Raoul and Severine made a mistake. He's sure one of the eggheads will figure it out, maybe that floppy haired teenager they hired. 

And then he takes Raoul aside and tells him his plan. Raoul is livid that James did something on his own and that it's two days late to stop it and then when he's done slamming doors and kicking over end tables they go get some gellato because they might never have any ever again. 

They being home a carton for Severine who has been out shoe shopping all day and come back with twenty pairs and they let her put on a show for them before they break the bad news to her that she's never going to see those shoes ever again.

She might cry a little bit about it.  
~~

James slips out of the house in the night in his pulling clothes and heads to a nearby bar. It's full of tourists and college students. They're all drunk which makes his job easier. 

He tries not to think about how their parents are going to feel about this, after the third one.   
~~

MI-6 comes the next day, kicking in the front door just as the Macao Syndicate come in the back, guns blazing. There's a moment of surprised, “Who are you?” from both groups of intruders before Eve Moneypenny recognizes the type of bomb on the table and that there are six of them in the same model, and sees the three dead tourists on the sofa.

And then everything goes away.

She never feels a thing.  
~~

James wakes up on a beach and doesn't regret a thing. He finds Raoul and Severine curled up on either side of him. They're practically alone on the atoll and the water is crystal clear and warm, and the sky is cloudless as the sun comes over the horizon. The sail boat is moored out in the water and looks perfect in the early morning light. There might be fresh coffee on board and Raoul might make them waffles if they ask nicely.

It's going to be a wonderful day.

**Author's Note:**

> Well. I certainly didn't see this much coming out of one rewrite of a scene in the movie, but hey. I'd like to thank everyone who kept reading to the end, I hope you enjoyed it, I certainly enjoyed all the hit counts and kudos and comments. 
> 
> Song for this part was Swedish House Mafia's Don't You Worry Child.


End file.
